I thought every psychological thing from the accident two and a half years ago was behind me. But yesterday we were at a stoplight and the sound of squealing tires made me flinch so hard I nearly went from the passenger seat right into Ian's lap, and I started shaking so hard and breathing so hard that he pulled into the first parking lot he could to give me some time to calm down and catch my breath.
We went into a nearby fast food place because I was damn well going to cave into the want of a chocolate shake while I fought to calm down and as we sat there I told him I thought this was all over with and that I'd mostly forgotten about it, but the look on his face said something else.
"You only drive if you have to. Since Alex got his license you drive even less. Your motorcycle has only 400 miles on it and I've put a hundred on it just to keep the battery charged."
I hadn't noticed, but he's right. I don't know why he's never pushed me to get behind the wheel more often or take the bike out, but he's right. I always ask him to drive, and I've used Alex's excitement over being able to drive as an excuse when Ian isn't available. I wanted to know why he didn't push me a little harder.
"Because you do what you have to do when you need to do it, and you're not distracted by fear when you are driving. I think it's all right that you choose to not drive or ride, and when you're ready, you'll tell me to get my ass in the passenger seat because I'm driving you bat chit crazy with the way I steer with one hand."
But clearly, I'm not nearly as all right with it as I thought I was.
I thought he would press the point and make me drive, but he didn't. I did ask him if he thought I was nuts, and as we got back into the car he said he did.
For a moment, I was offended.
"It's 5 fucking degrees outside, and you wanted a shake. You have to admit, that's a little nuts."
I'll give him that one.
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